Emma's POV:
One hour...that's it. One. Fucking. Hour. I told myself, wait. Just wait, Emma, and before you know it, she'll walk through the door, paddle-in-hand, an appearance which will both as much soothe your mind, and redden your ass.
But it would be worth it.
It would be worth it to abolish this pulsing, racing, uncontrollable force that my mind has burdened itself with, cast it to a miserable place far, far away from here, conjured up all because my dominant fiancée displayed such a large amount of powerful energy the second she told me that the moment when we set foot into our home, our safe-place and where our children are blessed to sleep in at night, my punishment would be one to continue throughout the day, which would seem longing for eternity...
Beginning to inhabit the thought of the seemingly loud noises of a sharply administered weapon being swung into my 'naughty-girl' ass as well as the moans coming from my punished-self being able to be heard all across our neighbourhood, I begin to picture the giggles and chuckles it would create, coming from all kinds of people from a dominant and/or submissive status or power living close by, or simply belonging to the BDSM community gaining the powered privilege to question or comment on the suspiciously dirty activities being conducted within the walls of our home, the next time they see the guilty pair of us in public. I can already feel the heat brushing against my apple-like cheeks at the mention of my past punishment, as well as Lauren's nails digging into my backside as a light mock to force my moans and whines to hide within my person, just when my embarrassment comes to an abrupt arrival.
My mind being clouded with the unforeseen occurrences, a lightly drawn smirk hangs on my lips, a thought dragged into my head as to how utterly slick I'd become inside the walls of my slit...and exactly how Lauren would take care of me afterwards...
I can already begin to hear her smooth, feminine voice eroding throughout my sensitive ear drums as she tells me exactly what she's about to do to her ever so wet and naughty girl, as she knows the only person allowed to make me so gliding and moist in public, where any willing soul can lay their suspicious eyes on my person, is her, sensing another rectifying moment creeping up for my, as what she would most likely yet playfully deem it, 'undoubtedly un-loyal'.
When I retake my seat on the end of the couch and being to settle down my circling emotions and wait for my domme to return home to begin turning my thought process into a sure, and quite real reality, I feel the beginnings of my thighs minimally slide over one another with a seeming easiness, caused by the continuous wetting glide becoming more and more soaked between my weak folds... "If I don't take care of myself before Lauren comes back home, she'll never forgive me for my behaviour today..."
Despite the indisputably happy thought of re-earning another dampening spanking, having an unhappy and let down Mistress does not please me in any effective way...and that's when I realised, something kept well-hidden deep inside my bedside drawer was loudly and most surely calling my name...and it's about time I listened to it.
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Lauren's POV:
Now for my second damn question - why? Am I being expected to believe that this man was so angered, so distraught, so disheartened by the fact that five years ago today, me and my soon-to-be wife's relationship dilemmas effected him, so fucking much, the rage inside of him caused him to snap my neck to a point of loss of consciousness, bundle me in the boot of his car and tie me up, then to finally drive miles and miles away from Abbey Wood to do what, exactly?
Scare me? Torture me? Give me some kind of telltale to just how much meaning his words held the other week? All I can do is stare...just stare. What am I expected to do? I'm bound up with duct tape, winded around my body time and time again, tightly fixated on my growing-red skin. It's when his body moves to lean down toward my rattling one I realise my eyes missed the long piece of tape attached to his finger by the adhesive on one side, a warm grey colour painted across the length on the other. His body edges closer to me, one large hand holding my chin firmly in place whilst he smoothes the material over my lips.
"Come on...before someone sees us." the tone of his voice doesn't display sadism, happiness...not even a mere grin. If anything...sadness is all I can perceive from him. Connor loops his arm underneath the bend of my squished-together legs, the other around my back, and he closes the boot with such skill I'd find impressive, if these weren't such dire, miserable circumstances...
My eyes sweep across the open area around me, every detail deemed unfamiliar. I'm not even sure we're in London anymore...but all I know is, I have to get away from him. Even if it kills me.
The hold he has on my body isn't a strong one, one easily adjustable with the right amount of movement...which is exactly what I do. Suddenly, without warning or instruction, my body bucks out in his arms, immediately falling flat onto the ground. With such speed and urgency, I begin crawling away, as fast as my body is willing to take me with the bounds across my upper and lower body, the breathless feeling of bodily exaggeration beginning to take ahold of me. He merely stands there and breathes with such a pique, he knows I won't get far hopelessly crawling with the minimal help of my knees and tied up hands.
Through the loud, sky-breaking thunder and pattering rain, I can barely hear his voice through the thickened noises clouding my ears. "This will be much easier if you just listen to me..." once again, I'm easily able to detect the softness in his 'twopence worth', a clear indication of how much he really doesn't want to do this...so why is he?
Nothing will break the strong barrier of my determination, no matter how much he tugs and pulls on my body, eager to trap it within the strength of his limbs, much tighter and more restrictive this time, my willpower to escape this otherworldly man's impending demise of myself is never dulled, the fire within me burning with strength. Connor yanks harshly on my legs, pulling me backwards and destroying any progress I made to crawl hopelessly away from him, creating a few minor irritable scratches on my exposed kneecaps from my black tube skirt, ones that are sure to bleed sooner or later and form into a scar - something sure to remind me of this horrible day, if I live to see past it...
Please, Connor...I don't ever beg anyone, but I'm begging you...leave me alone.
Even with the tumultuous sound the racketing weather above us makes, his puffs of vexation are audible to my damaged ears, a soft animosity about his expression when we lock eyes as I turn over onto my back. "If you don't stop, I'll have to put you over my shoulder. And neither of us wants that, do we?" when my mind is distracted by his confusing words, he manages to haul my scraped and injured body upwards again into his arms...and I comply.
What am I expected to do? I have no where to go...I'm captured.
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Now...now for question number three - where? Where am I? The building my body is forcibly carried into smells utterly of sickly boisterous smells such as a mixture of sweet-smelling toxins like bleach, the walls plainly painted a rich, white albino colour, but most of all, the freshly cold air I'm met with is one that chills my skin right down to the bone, a breezing strip of pure coldness lining my white, thickly protected skeleton. A loud huff that comes from Connor's mouth matches the gloomy expression on his face, as he eyes my much more drained own, lined with a wide strip of tape which perfectly hides any expressions from his gaze. "Come on, Lauren...we're here."
After walking toward the back of the building, positioning my body to lean my slumped back against a large pillar, failing to attach any more security around my body, as it's clear...I'm done fighting. I've been caught, stolen, kept.
What...am...I...expected...to...do?
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Thank you for reading.
Connor's motives are more deep than ever realised...and on Monday, we'll find out the how, the when, and most importantly, the why...
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❛𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄...❜ | 𝐍𝐨.𝟑
Romance5 years ago, a dominatrix approached a shy, young mother in an S&M Club. Little did they know all the adventures that were coming their way. This time, there's just one person getting in the way of their happiness. A stalker, an IVF baby, and a marr...
